AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Dylan rocked their hips, causing Feb to moan, to drop a hand lower and clutch an ass cheek, holding Dylan closer, craving the friction. “Fuck, Feb,” Dylan gasped against her lips. “Tell me what you want.”
She whined, and Dylan’s answering chuckle was enough to break through the lust. Drawing back, she rested her forehead against Dylan’s. “I want more than this tiny little room can offer.”
“I could make it work,” Dylan said, lips trailing a path along her jaw. “Sit you up on that counter, haul down these yoga pants you love so much.” They snapped the elastic fiber on her thigh, the pop going straight to Feb’s already throbbing clit. “Eat the chef for a late-night snack.”
Wet heat pooled between her legs. Shame that too, because now that Feb actually had a date for Valentine’s Day, she wanted to make the most of it. She playfully shoved Dylan back, a modicum of space between her body that was aching for release and the person she wanted to share that release with. “I did not need to know you were good with the dirty talk.” Dylan’s sly smirk and dark, heated gaze were almost her undoing, but Feb held firm. “And I want to hear more Tuesday night, but tomorrow, you’re off.”
Their brows drew together. “But it’s prep day.”
“Exactly. You know the menu, you know the drink.” She flicked a glance at the empty glass, then back to the too-tempting bartender who’d concocted it. “Take tomorrow to take care of your family, then I’m going to take care of you and us Tuesday night. I want that date, Dylan,” she said. “And everything that comes after, especially the snacks.”
FIVE
Just as she exited the front of UTT each night, Feb entered the same way each morning. Cruising through her dining room and soaking in her concept and creation first thing reminded her why she was there and what she was doing. It calmed and centered her.
As she pushed open the front door on Valentine’s Day morning, she needed that calming, centering effect more than ever. She was a ball of nerves over the evening service ahead and a live wire ready to spark over the date that would follow. Would the Render critic show? Would he give them a star-worthy review? Would everyone else dining with them tonight also enjoy their experience? Would she get to experience more than a heated make-out with Dylan after?
Even an extended session with her vibrator last night when she’d gotten home had failed to take the edge off, her dreams filled with parted lips, dirty words, and rosy pale skin. Not to mention sex on every surface?—
A cleared throat interrupted her stroll down fantasy lane.
She glanced up.
Calm and centered vanished.
The large round table at the center of the dining room was occupied by a group of severe-looking individuals. Attractive, all of them, but also intense, their unfamiliar gazes focused on her.
Well, not entirely unfamiliar... “Dylan?” she said to her bartender and future date who was sitting directly across the table from where she’d entered, the center of the gathered group. “What’s going on?”
“Jax,” they replied.
Odd, but name preferences seemed the least of Feb’s worries at the moment. “Okay, you want to go by your last name, sure...”
“Not my last name,” Dylan said, holding her gaze. “Jax is my first name. J-A-X. And this is my family, some of them.”
Feb swept her gaze left to right, trying and failing to see Dylan in any of the people on either side of them, but then she remembered how Dylan had been kicked out at home. How they’d landed in a shelter where they’d found their chosen family. But even then, the Dylan sitting at the table in their usual preservice nerd attire did not match the attire or attitude of the other people around the table. They looked far more like the Dylan that Feb was used to seeing behind the bar.
“Why don’t you have a seat, Ms. Winters?”
Feb’s gaze snapped to the Black woman to Dylan’s left. She was the boss lady. Feb knew it the same way she immediately knew who was the head chef in any kitchen. The scary, hot blond in leather on Dylan’s other side was also a boss lady. Maybe not in this particular instance, but an air of authority swirled around her too. And she seemed vaguely familiar? Hard to forget those ice blue eyes, the sharp lines of her dainty face, all that blond hair. Feb would swear she’d met her before. Had definitely seen her leather jacket on Dylan before. Had Dylan taken it? Was that what this was all about? Seemed a bit extreme, but so did these strangers.
She slid into the empty chair across from Dylan. “Are you in trouble?” she asked them.
“No, but I’m afraid you are. More than we intended.” They averted their gaze, face angled away, but not before Feb caught the regret that streaked across it. Recognized it as the expression, the uneasiness that had weighed on Dylan the other day. Feb’s stomach sank, then sank further as Dylan slumped in their chair, silent.
Boss lady took that as her cue. “I’m Melissa Cruz,” she introduced herself. “And this is my work partner, Braxton Kane.” She nodded at the white man on her left. He looked an odd combination of tired yet determined. He also kept a watchful eye on Dylan, and if Feb wasn’t wrong, his hazel gaze was tinged with sympathy, his demeanor with protection. Given he looked around fifty, a father figure, maybe? Before Feb could ponder further, Melissa spoke again. “Jax works with me and Brax at Redemption Inc.”
“And we’re the rest of Jax’s family,” the scary blond said.
“Helena?” Feb said, the name coming to her out of a whiskey-soaked memory from that night after service when she’d wanted so badly to kiss Dylan. Dylan had put her in a car home instead—Helena’s car.
“Good, you remember.” Helena’s smirk reminded Feb of a viper. Yeah, she was the scary boss lady. “Grumpy on the end over there”—she pointed at Brax—“is also my brother-in-law. Mr. Hair”—she pointed at the man to her right, who looked suspiciously like Mia Perri from AB’s—“is my other brother-in-law, Chris. We’re here for Jax, and we also have an interest in the target.”
“What target?”
“Jacob Pappas,” Melissa answered.
“The Render critic.”
